Tell me, how am I supposed to live without you?
And how am I supposed to live with Michael Bolton singing?
Pssst… Do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell? whoa-awhoa, now closer…let me whisper in your ear…
It’s ok. No worries.
What’s New, Pussycat?
Nothing that was new the last time you cleaned this litter box. Think you could do something about that?
If I lay here.
If I just lay here.
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
In a heartbeat.
The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. The answer is blowing in the wind.
Who can it be now?
I don’t give a flying fuck. And quit stomping all across the floor. If he hears, he’ll knock all day.
**
Should I try to do some more? 25 or 6 to 4.**
Hell no. Uncross your legs and get up off the floor. Go splash some water on your face. Turn off the light and go to bed already. It’ll be daybreak before you know it.
Do you hear what I hear?
Yes, I do, and if you don’t turn down that freakin’ stereo, we’re both gonna go deaf, young man.
Shall I play for you, pa-rum-pa-pum-pum, on my drum?
Is that a rhetorical question?
Don’t you want me baby? Don’t you want me, oh-oh-hhhhhhhh?
Nah, I’m okay. But thanks for asking.
Have I told you lately that I love you?
Yes, and if you don’t go away and leave me alone, I’m getting a restraining order.
Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?
Not really, but you know, that’s just my opinion man.
**Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we hail’d at the twilight’s last gleaming? **
No, I can’t at the moment, I’m in an office building and there are no flags visible. And if you mean the actual flag that you hail’d in 1814, it’s in DC in a building, making it even harder to see from my current vantage.
For the longest time when I was a kid, I thought it was “daunserly light”; I figured it was some obscure, archaic adjective that I’d eventually run across somewhere else.
[hijack] You and Ramona–a beloved Beverly Cleary character. She wanted to find the “dawnzer” when she was in kindergarten.[/hijack]
what do I gotta do to make you love me? What do I gotta do to make you care?
Hmmmm…not sure, but money helps. And shave your face!
Tell me, how am I supposed to live without you?
I don’t care, Michael Bolton. Go away.
**Why do we kill people who kill people to show that killing is wrong?
Where (where) where were you, when I needed you most, when I needed a friend?
Como te Gusta Mi Pinga?
Do You Wanna Funk?**
How do you document real life, when real life’s getting more like fiction each day?
Personally, I recommend selling out and joining a sleazy news and showing it live saying “Oh my god! I can believe this is happening!”
A: It’s called “leading by example”.
B: Down in the cellar eating sauerkraut (wait; that’s from some old song my mother used to sing).
C: Shove your pinga back in your pants, bub (obviously, I don’t understand Espanol).
D: Only if it comes with a Wagnalls.
This thread’s a hoot! Alas, with all these songs bouncing off the inside of my cranium, I can’t think of anything new to add.
You understand more than you know you do…
Jesus, if I can’t even get any action from a BJ Moose, I might as well.